American Replacement
by butterscones
Summary: *Re-Uploaded**On-Hold* When America dies of an unknown death, he gets replaced. England doesn't like the replacement one bit. He seems to be hiding something. What happens when he finds out his big secret? And how did America die? [UsUk]
1. Chapter 1

**I've posted this story on here many times, but it was horrible (it had a lot of selling mistakes and whatnot) so I tried to fix all the mistakes. I'm also making the chapters longer then they were before, so yes. That's it.  
**

**Disclaimer: I'm only saying this once, so listen up!**

**I DO NOT OWN AXIS POWERS HETALIA. If I did, I'd be rich. **

* * *

Arthur sat at the table and watched whoever was speaking. It was yet another world meeting and it was just as bad as any other meeting, but in a different way. There was something missing. It wasn't as noisy, nobody was arguing and people were taking notes. So what was missing? A certain loud mouthed American.

Yes. America was gone and wouldn't be back anytime soon. Gone. Forever. What happened?

* * *

It was just a normal day as usual. England was trying to get away from France, who was being a pervert. England was trying to get to America's house to discuss some things with him.

"Bloody hell Francis! Will you get away from me!?" shouted England, who was clearly annoyed with France.

"Non Angleterre~! I'm going to follow you around and help you spread LOVE!" France cooed to England. England sighed and continued walking to Americas house, with a annoying Frenchman behind him.

When he finally got to Americas house, he knocked on the door and waited. After a few minutes of waiting he knocked some more while saying, "America you git open the door!" he waited some more while trying to get France to stop touching him. "What is taking that git so long?" he asked himself and jiggled the door knob.

He found that the door was unlocked and slowly peeked his head in and looked around. It looked like Alfred's house. Nothing out of the ordinary. "Alfred?" he shouted in the house to see if he would get an answer. No sound came out of the house.

Stepping in the house with Francis following behind him, he called out his name again. "Alfred?" Again no answer. He walked completely in his house now and looked around. It was to quiet. Something wasn't right. His house was never this quiet. EVER. "Alfred? Are you alright?" he shouted again and, got no answer just like the previous time.

"Obviously he's not home Angleterre!".

"But he called me about half an hour go and his door is unlocked!" England replied. "He wouldn't just leave his door unlocked." He walked around and got to the stair's. "Let's look in his room. Maybe he is just asleep."

England and France walked up the stairs to America's room. France opened the door and both him and England stepped in and looked around. Again, nothing was out of the ordinary. "See, he's not home." France grabbing England hand and trying to drag him out the door. "Let's go Angleterre!"

"I said 'No' you bloody twat! Not yet! America would have called me if he was leaving at the last second. And he wouldn't of left his door unlocked." he said while pulling away from France and walking down the hallway, checking the other rooms.

"Oui, but where else could he be? You called his name about 10 times already. I think if he was here, he would have answered you by now."

"I'll call him. If he's not here he'll answer his phone and tell us." England dug for his cell phone in his pocket and dialed Americas number. The waited a few seconds before they heard the national anthem coming from the backyard. They both ran to the back yard to see something they didn't want to see.

There on the ground was America. "America!" England said and ran to him, with France right behind him. England started shaking him. "America! Are you alright? What happened? Get up!" France looked at him. France smacked him with England. He didn't wake up. France checked his pulse.

His blue eyes went wide as he checked it. There was no pulse. He looked at England, who was now shaking America harder now. "Angleterre..."

"W-what?"

"I-I don't know how to tell you this."

"What? What's wrong?"

"H-he's dead" England emerald eyes widened and filled with terror.

"No- No he's n-not." he said.

"He is. Theres no pulse. He's not breathing. Not moving. He's gone..."

England's heart stopped for a second before his eyes filled with tears and he said, "N-no. He can't be. That's Impossible. He's not dead. He's not dead. He can't be." France didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to comfort England as he started to cry and shake America even more.

"Angleterre.. stop. H-He's not waking back up." The Brit looked at him tears flowing out of his eyes.

"He can't be dead... Hes not allowed to die.. H-how could this happen?" he said in barely a whisper.

"I don't know Angleterre.."

* * *

England sighed and tried not to think about who was missing in the meeting. He still hadn't gotten over the fact that Alfred was gone. He wouldn't believe it. He knew that he was gone but he couldn't believe it. Even hearing His name would make eyes water and he would want to cry.

Also, If Alfred was gone, what would become of the country? If the representation was dead, would would happen to the country America? That pondered him. A representation of a country shouldn't die unless the country falls. America hadn't fallen, so how had he died?

There was no blood or anything. It was like he had just fell and died. He didn't even get to say goodbye. the last time he saw him was at a world meeting, they had gotten into an argument. when they were going to meet, he was going to apologize. What if he died think he was mad at him?

Before he could continue his thoughts, The door to the meeting slammed open and A man man with a black suit came in. Followed by two more men. All the countries looked at them with puzzled looks on their faces. "I assume all of you know about Alfred, the representation of The united states, dying. Am I correct?" He said. Some of them said yes. Some of them shook their heads 'Yes'. Arthur shook his head sadly, tears in his eyes at the use of his name.

"Well, all of you know that if A representation dies, the country should die with it. Alfred is dead, but the country isn't," Arthur hated the way he said 'Alfred is dead.' with no emotion. "We are afraid if we don't do something, the country will fall. So we have no choice but replace Alfred."

This shocked Arthur. How could they even think of replacing him!? He had just 'passed' less than 3 weeks ago and they were already going to replace him!? How would that even work? They had to be a representation! Immortal. Who would they replace him with?

"So, we would like to Introduce you to the new representation of the united states of America." And with that, he stuck out his hand and motioned it towards the door. Then, A man walked in. He had on a black suit, had dark brown hair, and was carrying a briefcase. His hair was slicked back with gel and he had on sunglasses.

Arthur was shocked. That couldn't be the replacement. That's to.. It's just not right. He's to professional looking. "Meet, Robert Castirro. the new representation of America."

"Nice to meet you all. I heard the original representation was mysteriously killed. Well, I'm his replacement. With me, I'll make the United States more powerful than it already is."

"Well, I am Germany, nice to meet you, Robert." Germany said as he had already walked over to him and stuck out his hand to shake it. All the other countries, except England, went up there and introduced himself. England just watched the guy. He had been here for less than five minutes and he already knew that he didn't like him.

France had motioned for England to come over and introduce himself. So, with resentment, he did. "Hello. I'm England, but A-Alfred called me Arthur, so I suppose you can to." he said and put out his hand for him to shake. He shook it and didn't say a word. Something was up with this guy. He didn't like the idea of Alfred being replaced. And definitely not with this guy


	2. Chapter 2

When everyone was done introducing themselves, they got back to the meeting. Though, no one could really pay attention. All the seemed to do was watch Robert. They wanted to see what he knew, and what he was like. Arthur, on the other hand, just wanted to leave. He didn't want anything to do with the new America. He didn't like him.

When did he figure out that for sure? When he heard his idea's. His idea's where not fair, at all. Not that Alfred's where fair, but at least his could be pushed off without a huge fight. When Robert had an idea, and someone rejected it, he named about a thousand reasons why his idea should be considered. And they were actually good reason's. They just weren't any fair to the other countries.

Luckily, sense he was new to the meeting, none of his idea's got considered. But it wasn't just his idea's that ticked Arthur off. It was also the way he acted. He acted like no one else matters and that they are all dumb. Alfred may have acted like this at times, but he never really said that to anyone.

There were more reason's why he didn't like him, but was too tired to think of them all. He laid his his down on the table, trying not to think about anything. He just wanted to leave. He wanted to get away from this meeting, and go do something he enjoyed, to take his mind off of Alfred.

Arguments had started to place in the meeting, despite their new country being there, and Germany had called a half an hour lunch break. Usually, he would go with America and make sure he didn't buy everything in the snack machines. But, America wasn't there. So he just sat there in his seat, waiting for the break to be over.

He thought he was the only one in the meeting room. So he was surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He picked his head up from the table to see who was touching him, and was relieved when it was just France. "What do you want, frog?" he asked, glaring at him slightly. He was in no mood to deal with any of France's crap.

"Ah, Angeleterre, I see you are in no good mood, but I know that you are really depressed, Because of Alfred's death and this new replacement," he said, looking at him, "But you should really get to know this America. Perhaps it will help you."

"I don't want anything to do with that man. He's not America so I'm not interacting with him unless I have to."

"I know he's a lot more... mature than Alfred, but you should give him a chance."

"No. Now go away. I-I have lot's of work to do.." England said, stiffening a bit at the use of Alfred;s name.

"I will, but you should get to know him.. even if you don't like him." and with that, France left to go and enjoy his lunch break.

He sighed and played with a pencil on the desk. He had lost his appetite. He knew France was only trying to help him, but he didn't like it. He didn't want anything to do with him. "I see someone's not my biggest fan." someone said, from behind him.

England turns around and looks at who's talking to him, with much curiosity. He was surprised to see it was Robert. He refused to call him 'America' "Well, Everyone has a person who dislikes them." he said flatly, not making eye contact with him.

"I guess you're right because I'm not your biggest fan either. I don't like you. If what people have told me is true, then you're a pain in the butt. Hard to deal with.." he said.

"It's not lik-" Arthur got interrupted.

"I wasn't done yet." Robert said. "I don't care what relationship you had with the original America, you won't have that with me. We were in a war. Once you go into war with a country, even if the wars over, you shouldn't be friends with them. That shows you're weak. And America's not weak." he said.

"That wouldn't work. Yes, if you enter a war with someone you shouldn't be friends with them, then. But, if the war is over and both people want to talk, why not? If you do what you're saying you won't have anyone to talk to. Al-America had has been in wars with lot's of countries. You would be eliminating about half the world! America is good friends with many countries he was in war with!" England told him, quite surprised by what he said.

"If you are friends with a country you're in war with, it shows you are weak, I'm not changing my mind on that. Now if you excuse me, I should go and do something important." he said and walked off. England couldn't believe what he had just heard. Was that new America that stubborn?

A certain Frenchman walked into the room just then. Carrying a cup of tea and a sandwich, he walked over to the Brit and placed it in front of him.

"Here. Eat Angleterre." he said. England looked at the food and looked back at France.

"I'm not hungry." he said, pushing the food away.

"Non. You're going to eat. I know you haven't been eating much lately. It's not good for you. Now eat. I'm not leaving until you do." he said, standing bye and watching him. With reluctance, the Brit took a bite.


	3. Chapter 3

The lunch break had gone by pretty fast after that, and before England knew it; he was back in the meeting. He sat there, and decided to fill out the piles of paperwork he had, ignoring everyone and everything around him. The papers had been building up sense Alfred's death and he might as well get something useful for himself done in this meeting, right?

He filled out papers, throughout the meeting. No one noticed because they were all too busy arguing. When the meeting was finally over, he realized he would have to go back to his hotel room and continue to fill out the paperwork. He hadn't noticed how much it had built up until now.

He picked up his papers, sorting them out a bit before before walking out of the room, not saying a word. As he walked through the hallway of the building, trying to find the exit; he thought about all the things happening right now. The 'New America.' and all the paperwork he had.

Not paying attention to all of his surroundings, he walked out of what he assumed to be the main exit. He started down the street, still thinking about the subjects on his mind. He turned the corner, the paperwork still piled in his hands and in a bag on his back as he walked down the street. Why was he not driving? This morning when he had left his hotel room, he decided that it would be to much of a trouble to rent a car and drive around in the busy streets. So he decided to walk.

He continued to walk down the street on the crowded sidewalk. Then, his phone started to ring. Sighing, he dug around through his pocket and picked up the phone and answering with a annoyed, "Hello?"

"Bonjour Angleterre~!" cooed a France on the other end, who sounded happy go lucky but worried at the same time.

"What do you want, Frog?" England asked in an annoyed tone. Why did he always insist on calling him? They had spoken to each other an hour ago, so why was he so persistent on calling him?

"Why do I have to want something to talk to you?" the French nation asked, smirking on the other end even though he knew that the Brit couldn't see it.

"Because we just talked an hour ago and I know I'm not the best person to chat with. So spit it out before I hang up. I have some work to do."

"Oui, you just worry me Arthur." he said, his voice getting a serious and worried tone to it. "When you didn't want to eat, you had me worried. It's not good if you only eat when someone makes you. I'm afraid if someone isn't there to make you, you won't."

"I'm going to eat you bloody frog, I just wasn't hungry! Why are you so concerned about my well being?" he asked the french nation. Why was he so worried about the Brit? He was fine, right? He would get over this new America thing and his death, Right? Right?

"I'm still worried about will, you just tell me that you'll eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner?"

"I'll eat, alright? Now stop bothering me. You don't need to be concerned about me! I'm perfectly fine! Nothing is wrong! Besides, you can't blame me for being so depressed. How would you feel is Matthew died and you felt you could have stopped it from happening, hm? How would you react?"

"It wasn't your fault Angleterre.." France said, not wanting the Englishman to blame himself, because that would only make things worse, like he could fall into a depression or something worse. And it wasn't his fault. He had no idea what was happening. How was he? He had talked to the American about half an hour before it happened. How was he supposed to even suspect that that might happen?

"..." The Brit was going to answer, but felt something push him, sending him to the ground. THUD! He landed on the ground, papers flying from his arms and his back all over the place, while the phone fell and hung up on France. Getting up, his eyes widened as he watched all the papers that were due in a day fly away in the wind, scattering all over the city.

When he turned around to see who had pushed him, he saw someone run and turn around the corner. But he did recognize something. The person's suitcase had an American flag on it. He knew someone who's suitcase had a American flag on it. It was that no good bastard who replaced Alfred! And he had just pushed him, causing his papers to fly everywhere! Who knew how long that would take him to re-do it all.

Turning the corner to chase after the American, he realized that he now had much to work to finish now that all his papers were gone. How would he get them all back? It was going to take a while, and he figured he might as well go back to his motel. There was no use in trying to confront the American. It's not like all his papers would come back. He needed all the time he could get. Sighing, he continued to walk back to his hotel. But more quickly.

When he finally reached his motel room, he went straight work. He hadn't bothered to call France back; he would just start getting all annoying and would probably find some reason to come over. He didn't need that, he had to get work done. It was going to take a while.

And take a while it did. First, he had to locate and reprint all the papers again. There were hundreds of them,and some of them were very difficult to find and get access to. Lot's of passwords and stuff like that where involved. When he had finally got all the papers printed out, he had to do the filling them out correctly part. That was also going to take a while.

England rubbed his eyes and yawned. He hadn't gotten much sleep that night, in fact, he didn't remember falling asleep at all. So why was he waking up? Looking around, he saw papers scattered everywhere. His head was leaning on the desk and the pen was still in his hand. He must have fallen asleep when he was working! This was terrible! How was he going to finish the paperwork if he was falling asleep!

The he realized something worse: the meeting wasn't over. He still had 3 days left of it. Looking for a clock and being unsuccessful in finding one, he grabbed his phone and checked the time. The first thing he noticed was 5 missed calls and 15 text messages from France, then the time. 9:38. He was late!

He rushed out the door, not before grabbing the papers first though. He didn't need to get dressed; he still had his clothes from the other day on. He knew it wasn't very proper, but he couldn't be late for a meeting! He had never ever been late to a meeting, and he wasn't going to start that nasty trend.

He ran into the building and straightened out his clothes and fixed his hair for a second before walking into the meeting. "I'm terribly sorry that I'm late, I overslept." he stated calmly before taking a seat.

"Angleterre! I was wondering what happened to you! Why did you hang up on me yesterday!? Why didn't you answer any of my calls or texts?!" The French nation asked worriedly.

"I hung up on you because some bloody wanker pushed me in the streets, causing all my bloody papers to fly away! I had to stay up all night reprinting them all and filling them out! And I'm still not finished, and it thanks to you!" he said, pointing to Robert. All the countries to their eyes to Robert, awaiting a reply.


	4. Chapter 4

A pair of eyes from every country landed on Robert, awaiting a reply. He shifted in his seat and then said, "How exactly did you know if it was me or not? Do you have proof?" The Brit thought for a moment. He didn't have proof. He just saw an American flag on the briefcase. He knew if he said that, he would say that anybody could have an American flag on there suitcase. Thus, giving him no evidence.

So, what was he to say? He didn't want to make himself look like a fool. "I don't necessarily have any proof, but I saw an American flag on the person's briefcase!" he said.

"That doesn't mean it was me, anyone could have an American flag. Maybe they're American!" He exclaimed.

"He's right England-San. Just because he had an American flag doesn't mean it was Robert." Japan said, shaking his head. All the other countries agreed with Japan. All except for England himself.

Fine. They didn't have to believe him. He still had work to do. "Fine. Don't believe me." he said, as he sat down in his seat with all the paperwork.

"Now that we have that all figured out, let's begin with the meeting!" a German said as he walked up to the front of the room. England just watched as the meeting started. Did the really trust Robert? Did they actually like him? He didn't know. All he knew was that he hated him.

He started working on the paperwork again. He was writing so fast that he felt the pen in his hand was going to snap in half. Not that it actually would, it just felt like it. About half an hour later, he was starting to feel really sleepy. Resting his on the table, he continued to work, just a little bit slower than before.

Yawning, he stopped writing. It wouldn't hurt if he took a little break, right? He yawned again, before feeling his eyelids getting heavier. Then before he knew it; he was asleep.

England opened his eyes, yawning before lifting his head up from the table. The first thing he heard was, "Merde![1] Where did those paper's go?" he guessed it was France who was talking, since it was French.

"What's wrong?" England asked, watching the frantic Frenchmen as he looked on every table and under them.

"I lost some very important papers. I can't seem to find them anywhere and I don't know what could have happened to them." He said, looking a under a chair, "You're finally awake; I thought you'd never wake up, you slept through the whole first half of the meeting."

England was a little surprised by this. Had he really slept that long? He didn't even mean to fall asleep, let alone fall asleep for that long. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, a little mad. Sure, he had stayed up most of the night filling out all the papers (And he would probably be doing the same thing tonight too.) But that didn't mean he needed to miss more work by sleeping during the meeting.

"You looked tired. I wanted to let you sleep~" France said, still looking for the papers that were missing.

"Now I probably have even more paperwork to do, right?" he asked France in an annoyed tone.

"Yes, but it's not that much. Just a little packet." He said, "Speaking of paper work, I'm missing some."

"I know, I heard you the first time."

"Oh, well if you see any papers, will you see if they're mine?" France asked him.

"Yes, I'll see if they're yours." He said, "Bye the way, where is everyone?"

"It's lunch time. They're all out eating lunch; and you should do the same."

"Mhm, I will." He said, not quite sure if he would, but he wasn't going to tell France that.

"Good, well, my papers aren't in here. I've got to find them. So, Au revoir l'Angleterre [2]!" France cooed, leaving the meeting room to look for his papers.

England stretched as France left the room. He wondered what happened to France's papers. It's not like papers could just grow legs and walk away, right? So something had to happen to them. It was weird really, first his papers get blown away in the wind, and then France loses his papers. He knew that Robert had pushed him, causing his papers to fall out of his arms and blow away. Maybe Robert had something to do with France's missing papers.

He'd have to think about that later, because the meeting was about to start up again. Five minutes he had if he wanted to eat lunch. He decided not to. He wasn't hungry anyway. Besides, what he could he make in 5 minutes that wouldn't taste terrible?

Five minutes later, the countries starting coming back to the meeting and sitting in their seats. France never found his missing papers, it looks like. Russia was threatening Lithuania; Belarus was stalking Russia also threatening Lithuania. Poland was standing up for Lithuania, who just wanted to go home.

Italy was yelling 'Pasta~', Romano was yelling at Italy to shut up. England knew what was coming up next. "EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Germany yelled.

There it was. All the countries eyes went on Germany, closing their mouths. "Let's get the meeting started again."

And it began. The meeting was boring as usual, and England wished he would allow himself to fall back asleep. England tried to do his paperwork and pay attention, but couldn't help but watch Robert, who was sitting next to china for some odd reason. Usually, the countries where seated by which area they were in on the map. Like, all the Asians in one area and the North American countries sat next to each other, so why was he sitting next to China?

He watched Robert; who was acting very strange. China, who had a small pile of papers next to him, was watching Germany. Robert seemed very interested in China's pile of papers. He looked like he wanted to grab one. He looked like that for a while. What was he doing? Just then, in a blink of an eye, Robert grabbed one of the papers from the pile. Had he just seen right?


	5. Chapter 5

Surely he had just seen right, he couldn't have imagined what he had saw. England blinked, and then looked back at Robert and China.

China was oblivious to what had happened, and Robert was smirking slyly, as if he had just won the award for world's greatest spy. He was trying to think, should he speak up and tell the others what happened? Would they believe him? Or would they us laugh and say that he was lying?

England refused to be humiliated again, and decided he'd just get the papers from Robert himself. Besides, he wanted to see what he was up to. Something wasn't right with him, he was planning something, and England could feel it. He didn't like it one bit. Whatever he was planning, it wasn't good. It wasn't good at all.

The rest of the meeting went by with its usual arguments and problems, and once again, they didn't get anything done. During the whole meeting, England though of a way to accuse Robert. He wasn't just going to stand up and say it. No, he wanted to find out what he was up to.

All of the countries where getting up and leaving back to their hotel rooms, and England figured he'd follow Robert to his hotel room and spy on him. Try to get China's papers back and figure out what he was planning.

"Angleterre, are you going to go back to your hotel?" A French accent asked from behind him.

"What? Oh, yes. I am. What's it to you, Frog?" England asked, annoyed. He needed to catch up to Robert before he was gone.

"Why don't you come with me, to my hotel room for a little while? Relaxing a little could be good for you."

"How could I have fun with you?" he asked, glaring at him, watching Robert from the corner of his eye.

"You're so cruel Angleterre!" France said, shaking his head.

"I'm not going with you, Frog. Now let me go! I have work to do!" England said

And that wasn't a lie either. He did have work to do, lots of work, but he was going to find out what Robert was up to, even if it meant he didn't get any work done tonight. With that, England took off, following Robert through the hallways and making sure he wasn't seen. In a minute, they were out of the building and in the busy city. England continued to follow him, about a block behind him. Then, he entered a building, which England assumed was the hotel he was staying at. He walked in after him, waiting until he walked in the building before going in after him. There was Robert, going to the elevator. He couldn't go in the elevator with him; it would be too obvious. He looked at the the button he pushed, barely able to see it.

The 9th floor. He headed over to the stairs. He had two walk up nine stories, nine bloody stories up. This was going to suck. He started up the stairs, cursing in his mind for not bringing a disguise so he could go in the elevator. But no; he had to take the stairs. When he got to the 9th floor, England felt as if he would collapse. He didn't that walking up nine flights of stairs what be that tiring. He looked around the hallway, wondering what door Robert could have went in, for there were many of them.

There's gotta be some way to figure out which door that git went through, England thought. He looked around some more, trying to find some way to figure out which room was Robert's. What he did know was that it was on this floor, and that there had to be some way to figure out which figured he could listen through the doors, and if he heard Roberts voice he would know that that was his room. He put the fact that he was probably invading someone's privacy to the back of his mind, determined to find Robert.

He passed each door, leaving each one when he didn't hear anything out of the normal or when he didn't hear Robert. He continued, and put his ear to a door, listening. "I already got most of what we need, I just need to get the rest and put it together!" A familiar voice said.

England stopped, he recognized that voice. That voice that he had begun to hate since he had met it. He hesitantly put his ear back against the door and listened.

"Trust me sir, this is going to work. I know it is! Those idiots are too stupid to realize that they're papers are gone! And even if they do notice, they will never think that it's me!" the voice said, very confident sounding. There was a pause, and then it said, "I just need to get that communist bastard's and that stupid Italians! That shouldn't be too hard."

"What is he planning to do?" England whispered to himself, trying to think of what he could be doing with the paperwork of all the countries? It was driving him insane, and he was dying to know.

Another pause. England concluded that he was probably on the phone with someone. Then he heard footsteps coming closer to the door. "Shit, shit, shit!" England cursed at himself, pulling away from the door. But it was too late, and the door opened revealing a very pissed looking American.

"What are you doing here?" the American asked, glaring at the Brit, his hands not moving from the spot they were at. England was about to respond but found himself... scared? Why was he scared? There was no reason to be scared of the bloody American! He was... Intimidating at the most, and England wasn't scared. No. he wouldn't let himself be scared.

"I'm bloody trying to figure out what you're planning!" the Brit blurted out, then covered up his mouth. Why the bloody hell did I say that!? He thought to himself, hitting himself for being such an idiot.

The American started reaching for him, and before England knew it; he found himself running away, the American chasing after him. He quickly made his way to the elevator, pushing the down button and running in it, breathing a sigh of relief when it closed with Robert still outside.

"Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?" the Brit asked himself, running a hand through his messy blond hair.

The elevator beeped and it was at the next floor, the doors opening, to see the American there, "Bloody. Hell." he said aloud, before the American grabbed him by the collar, pulling him out of the elevator with absolutely no struggle at all.

The Brit struggled to get out of Roberts grip, but he was failing and he had to think of a way to get away before they got to wherever Robert was pulling him. Really, England didn't want to find out what Robert would to him once they got there.

He tried to pull away some more, not making the American struggle at the slightest. Was he really that weak that he couldn't stop him? It sure seemed like it, and by the time they got back to Roberts hotel room, England had given up. He couldn't get Robert to let him go. But he didn't stop yelling.

"Let me bloody go!" The Brit yelled once again, pulling away from the direction Robert was walking.

"Honestly, you can't be that stupid. Do you really think I'm going to let you go just because you're telling me to? I didn't think you were that stupid." Robert said, pulling him the hotel room.

Robert turned around, locked the door and turned to face the Englishmen. What was he planning to do with him? This worried the Brit, since he had suddenly found out his fear of the American.

"So, what did you hear?"

It was simple question, and surprised England that the American asked a question instead of doing something physical to make him talk. "I'm not saying a bloody thing I heard!" he yelled at the American, determined to say nothing to him.

"You're going to be like that, hm? That's ok, I have other ways of making people talk." he said confidently, smirking a bit. Oh god, what was he going to do? How was he going to get out of this? These thought swam through the Brits head, and he didn't even notice Robert walking towards him, a needle in hand.

Before he knew it, everything was dark.


	6. Chapter 6

Darkness. That's all England saw when he woke. Where was he? He didn't have an idea. All he was focused on was getting out of wherever he was. That wasn't very easy, since he couldn't see anything.

Where could he be? He couldn't be that far from the hotel, since he was out for about an hour or two. He tried to think of a place where he could be that was close to the hotel, but he couldn't think of a place.

Then he remembered, did he have his cell phone? He dug his hand into the pocket of his pants, searching until he felt something cold and metallic. He pulled it and could have cried for joy, (and almost did).

Opening it, he looked to see if it had a signal. Sadly, it didn't. What if he held it up and walked around wherever he was trying to get a signal? It was worth a try. The cellphone in his hand, he walked around, holding it up high hoping it would get a signal.

He brought it down to his face again, to see it had one bar.

"Yes!" he cheered quietly, dialing a number and putting it up to his ear. "Come on Francis, answer your phone…"

He paced back and forth, hoping France would answer, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw someone awfully familiar on the ground.

Frozen. That's how England felt when he couldn't get himself to move. His body was yelling, screaming at him to run, but he couldn't find himself to do so. He was frozen from shock. He's here. I thought he was dead... I thought he was gone..., he thought to himself, ignoring the all the screams telling him to run.

Before he knew it; he found himself in front of him, on his knees, looking at him. The only sign that showed that he was alive was that his chest was slowly rising up and down, but that was the best that Arthur could say for him, his body was a mess. He couldn't tell one injury from another, where one ended and where one had begun. "A-Alfred...what has h-he been doing to you...?" he asked, choking out a small sob at seeing Alfred like this.

"Alfred.. please wake up..." Arthur said, he didn't dare to shake him, for that would most likely cause him pain. He sat there, waiting for him to wake up. He had to wake up eventually, right? Yes, he did. England didn't care how long it was going to take, he was going to wait there for Alfred to wake up. He had forgotten all about the one bar his phone had had, or or about escaping altogether. It was all Alfred.

After what seemed like hours, and probably was, Arthur had finally allowed himself to touch Alfred, to attempt to wake him up. Placing a hand on his chest, Alfred's face immediately twisted in pain and Arthur quickly moved his hand. How was he going to wake him up? He didn't want to hurt him, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Alfred, wake up, please.." He said again, knowing it wasn't going to wake him up. He was dying of nervousness, and would do anything for him to be able to wake up and to be able to hug him right now.

This is all my fault he told himself. If I was there for him, this wouldn't have happened.

"Arthur..?"

England stopped dead in his tracks as he heard his name being said. Was Alfred awake? Did he see him? Was it Robert? He found himself too afraid to look, what if it wasn't Alfred? What if it was Robert? What if Robert was coming from wherever he was to kill him? What if it was someone he didn't even know? But, then he remembered what they had said. "Arthur?"

It was a question, not a statement. Who didn't know he was here? Well, there was France, Spain, pretty much everyone at the world meeting, and America. No other countries where here except for America. So, it had to be him. Turning around slowly, he saw Alfred, struggling to get up, and watching him with big, cerulean eyes.

"Alfred." That was all he could get himself to say as he looked at the American, who he hasn't talked to in ages, and who he has been trying to wake up for hours. "Y-you're awake.." he finally forced himself to say, still standing there, looking at him.

"W-what.. are you doing here? I.." Alfred seemed to be struggling to talk, and he was also trying to get up from where he was laying, and was having trouble with that too. Arthur finally forced himself to run where Alfred was, finding a way to help him sit up, not saying a word. When he did, Arthur nearly had to stop himself from hugging him tightly, for it would hurt him.

Finally, Arthur broke the silence by asking, "What happened Alfred?" that was all he had intended to ask, but once he started, he couldn't stop from asking more. "Where have you been? What has he been doing to you? Are you OK? I," he found himself nearly crying, "I missed you so much.."

"It.." he said, taking in a deep breath, "Was that guy... I- I don't know who he is... and I missed you two.. but.. you have to get out of here."

"I can't, Robert put me here," he said, "And there's no way I'm leaving you! I just found you, dammit."

"But.. he's coming... I know it.. I don't want him to hurt you too.."

"He won't," Arthur said, "I won't let him hurt you, or me."

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**Please review! They keep motivated to update :3**


	7. Chapter 7

"But..." America trailed off, not finishing his sentence. "He's...Strong."

"I know..." England said, "I swear I'll kill him when I he comes..."

"Why? The last thing I had said to you was 'I hate your gut's you old man, I hope you die' Why would you even risk your life for me?"

That was a good question.

Why was he doing this? He could have just tolerated the stupid American Replacement. He could have just re done all the paperwork. He could have stayed home and not follow the American. He could have forgot about Alfred.

He didn't want to forget about the America tough. He didn't want to forget about Alfred. Why didn't he want to forget about Alfred? That puzzled him. He couldn't figure it out. Whenever Alfred was around him, he was annoyed to no end. But, when Alfred wasn't around him, he felt... sad. Lonely. Unhappy.

Why? He asked himself, Why did I do all this?

Thinking past all of the things he has done, he thought, It's because I raised him.. But that didn't sound right in his mind. He didn't know how to explain it, it just didn't sound right.

Not wanting to keep Alfred waiting for an answer, he said, "I don't know..."

"What do you mean you don't know...?" he asked, a confused look on his face.

He didn't know. All he knew was that it was love. But, he can't love America love that! He was his little brother! He hates his guts! Right?

Right...?

Wrong. He didn't hate Alfred. He-

His thoughts got interrupted by Alfred, saying, "You've got to get out of here, now. I'm not letting you protect me when I'm the one who got myself in this mess."

"I'm not leaving you, so stop asking me to leave. It's not like I know how to get out of here anyway," he said, "And, if we are going to get out, we'd have to wait until we found where the door is."

Arthur wanted to add. "Is there even a door?" to that sentence, but he didn't want to bother Alfred trying to explain it to him. It was quiet for about a minute, before a rumbling sound echoed through the dark space. Arthur wished he would have eaten when he had the chance. Because now, he was starving.

"Hey, Artie?"

Arthur didn't even flinch at the overused pet name, and replied saying, "Yes, Alfred?"

"How exactly are we going to get out of here?"

Arthur didn't know, but he wasn't going to tell Alfred that. He didn't want to tell him that when he just found him, and said that he was going to get them out. "I'm...not sure. I don't even remember how I got in, to tell you the truth."

"What do you mean?" he asked, "How do you not here how you got here...?"

"It was Robert..."

America didn't say a word as he leaned against the wall, England leaning against the wall next to each other. "It's all my fault." he said, "If I didn't let him do that, none of us would be here..."

"Do what?" The Brit asked curiously, tilting his head towards where he was pretty sure the American was. He couldn't tell, for it was almost pitch dark, and hard to see.

"It's nothing, it doesn't matter, it already happened." America quickly said, looking away from the Brit.

"America, you can tell me..." he said, "What did that bastard do?!"

"He wanted information I didn't have," Alfred quietly, avoiding Arthur's strong gaze at him, "When someone like him want's something, I guess he'll do anything to get it."

"Are you saying..?"

"Heh," Alfred said, forcing a small grin, if you could call it that, on his face," Who would've known that guy knew that guy was so good at fucking torture..." Alfred's face was painful looking, and he looked away from Arthur. He didn't want him to see himself like this. This wasn't how the hero acted. Now, he wasn't being the hero.

But, what happened next, surprised him. Arthur forced himself upon Alfred and hugged him. Alfred was pain, but his face didn't show it. He hadn't had a hug in a awhile, and he wasn't going to push Arthur away. It was Arthur.

"What are you..?"

"It's not you're fault, Alfred." Arthur whispered, wiping his eyes on Alfred's already dirty shirt. Alfred didn't care though, and didn't respond. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know how to respond. He hadn't been hugged by Arthur in so long.. he wanted to cherish the moment.

"You couldn't do anything to stop him. I could have. I could have done something to stop him, but instead I was sitting on my depressed ass, thinking I had it bad. You where over, enduring that pain. You're strong, Alfred you're strong and..." Arthur had made up his mind, "... You're strong and I love you."

Now the, surprised Alfred. His baby blue eyes widened at the words, and he managed to stutter out, "Y-you do?"

"Mhm.." Arthur mumbled, nodding into Alfred's shirt. He couldn't believe he actually said it. "I just... I understand if you don't feel the same way. After all, you were the one who left me. Why would you want to come back..?"

"That's not true." Alfred practically spat out the words, "What happened then.. I.. I had no idea it would hurt you as much as it did. I was young, stupid," he looked at Arthur, "I love you too..."

"You don't. You're just saying that."

"I'm not. I'm completely serious."

"Alfred, lying isn't going to help."

Alfred put a frown on his face, pouting to fingers under Arthur's chin, and bring his face, "I'm not lying. I'll prove it to.." and just as the where about to fill the gap between them, a bright light filled the room.


	8. Chapter 8

The light was bright, and the countries held their arms in the air to shield the light. England's eyes had just adjusted to the dark, and they had to readjust to the light. A laughing filled the air and echoed against the walls. A dark, familiar laughter it was. It was the laughter of a not-so-loved American. Deep down, England knew it was Robert. It wasn't going to be France or any of the other countries coming to save them. Besides, what country would laugh like that? Not any country he wanted to know.

He looked, and thought he saw the shape of Robert in the light, but he couldn't tell. It was too bright to see. He looked down at America, who had his eyes pinched shut and fist's over his eyes. He had been in here longer than England, much longer than him. Months. The light must have been something he thought he'd never see again. America must have been relieved, but worried at the same time. Relieved to see the light, but worried. Worried about Robert and England and himself, of course.

The light filled the room, and England's eyes finally started to adjust to it. The light wasn't bright, it had been very dark. Once his eyes adjusted, the form of Robert was very clear. It was him, alright. "I'm going to kill you!" England yelled, unable to control what he was saying. Anger filled him, and he would not forget what Robert had been doing to America this whole time. His America. America had said that he loved him. He was doing who knows what to him this whole time. Yes, he was going to kill him. He wasn't even going to give him chance to talk. Nope.

He was going to kill him even if it killed himself. "Well, that's rude," Robert exclaimed, looking at the Englishmen, "Not even a 'hello' or 'hi.' Just, 'I'm going to kill you'. Ha, and they call you a gentlemen." A smirk pulled at the American's dry lips, and he was going to open his mouth to say something again, when England said something.

"Screw being a gentlemen!" England shouted, "I'm done being a gentlemen. Done being a gentlemen to you, anyway!"

Robert laughed, that cackling laugh echoing against the walls and room. He looked at England, eyes full of hatred, and confidence. Slowly, ever so slowly, he walked closer to England, staring him down. "That was you being a gentlemen? Ha! Your worst Gentlemen I've ever seen, and I've seen quite few gentlemen in my training." Robert's eyes looked at America, who looked like he was in pain. "If you're such a gentlemen, why didn't you teach your little colony manners? He's quite rude." He walked closer to England, but was still a distance from him, "It was a lot of trouble for me, trying to get him to talk. He's so stubborn."

England grit his teeth in anger. He was having enough of this. How dare he lay a finger on him. "F-fuck you," he spat, "I'm going to kill you!"

"No," Robert said, now inches away from England's face. "I'm going to kill you, and him," he gestured over to America, "and let me assure you, I'm not going to be gentle."

Piercing green eyes glared at the American, telling him that he wasn't scared. That he could do all he wanted- No, he could try to do what he wanted, but he wouldn't back down. He couldn't let him get away with what he did, or what he was going to do. England didn't care about was going to happen to him; It had gotten personal. His eyes looked away from the cocky American replacement, to America (Who looked as if he was going to pass out again) then back to Robert. "I'd like to see you try." England said, his green eyes boring into Robert's brown ones.

That statement caused a smirk to pull at Robert's lips, "I won't try," he said, brown eyes meeting green ones, "I'll do it, I won't lose." Behind Robert, the light seemed to be dye down and it didn't seem as bright anymore. England could see that it was coming from door behind Robert, a door that was wide open. Before England could even process that though, he found Robert charging at him at full speed. Robert knocked him against the wall, knocking the air out of the Brit. He couldn't catch a breath a air as Robert pinned him against the door, Robert's hands on top of his own. He couldn't move, he couldn't breath.

"B-bastard," England managed to say as he attempted to take a breath of air. Robert smirked, slipping England's hands behind the man's own head, twisting them in a very painful way. England grit his teeth in pain.

"I know. It's a very useful trait to have a times like this." Robert replied, the smirk still painted on his face. Robert was bent down on his knees so he could look at the Brit's face. "You know.." Robert thought, looking at England, "I wonder how fun it would be to do to you what I did to him." Robert's long finger was pointing to the blond haired American, who was currently passed out again. England didn't say anything, he didn't need to. "Or even better! I could torture him in front of you!" He laughed, his eyes leaving America and looking at England again. "I think that's a good idea. I'm so clever."

"Don't you dare touch him," England said harshly, giving him a glare that could kill, "Touch a single hair in his head, and I'll kill you for sure."

"Oh really? I'd like to see you try. You can't even move!"

"I can't move right now, but you can't hold me like this forever."

"Of course I can't," Robert said, "That's what these are for." He held up some ropes, waving them in the Brit's face. England shook, kicked, anything that could Robert away from, but it didn't work. England struggled as he felt rope wrap around his hand's, attaching them together it a knot was made. Now Robert let go of his hand's, grabbing his feet as England kicked as hard as he could. He failed though, and a few moment's later his feet were tied up as well. England couldn't move now, and didn't help that his hands were tied up in that painful position. England grit his teeth in frustration and worry. "Look, something that's not even alive can beat you!"

"Fuck you," he spat, glaring daggers at Robert as he tried to get out of the ropes once again.

"I don't think I want to," Robert said, walking away from him and towards America, "I think I'd do anything, anyone but you." England just glared, not saying a word. "Now, about my idea earlier.."

"D-don't!" England shouted, "Don't!" He couldn't do anything else but that say that. He couldn't move.

"Shut up," Robert said, walking back over to England, a roll of duct tape in his hand, "Your voice annoys me." He took a piece of duct tape from the roll, putting it over England's mouth. "Aw, look, now he can't talk or move! It's a fucking miracle." He bent down so he could look in England's eyes, "As a reward, I won't do anything to you right now. I'll just torture your buddy over there right now. Besides, that's what I wanted to do anyway. It's a win for both of us!" England objected, but all that was heard was muffled objections. "I hope you enjoy the show."

England couldn't do anything but watch as Robert walked over to America. "You're shaking your head? You don't want me to? Well, that just makes me want to do it more." he said, looking down at America, who was curled up in a ball, shivering. His dirty face was twisted in pain slightly, but it looked as if he was sleeping. Robert smirked, giving a swift kick to America in the side. "Wake up." he said. America gasped, his blue eyes opening as he felt the pain from the kick. He tried to get up, only to be kicked by Robert once again. Muffled shouts were heard from England, causing Robert to look at him. "This isn't anything!" Robert said to him, "I'm just waking him up!" America was now shakily trying to get up, but his body wasn't allowing him to as it sent pain all through him. He shut his eyes to keep from any tears coming out, as he knew it could get a hundred times worse. "You're going awfully slow," Robert said to him, "Do I have to remind you what happens to slow people?"

America's blue eyes widened in fear as he struggled to get up faster, knowing what what happen if he didn't. "N-no!" he said quickly, eyes full of fear. America ignored the pain, getting up as quickly as he could at the sight of something metal in Robert's hand.

"I'm afraid that's not fast enough," he said, "I don't like to wait." Before America could say a thing, a crowbar left Robert's hand, heading straight for America's face. America fell down when it him, holding his eye. England was shaking by now, moving around violently trying to get the ropes untied. But they were in tight knots, knots he didn't know.

"Aw, a little crowbar hurt you?" Robert asked, "You're definitely not going to like this then." Robert turned around, where there was a little table with many things on it. His hands reached for a steel rod, "Ah, this one's fun. It's electric!" He turned around towards America, smirking. America didn't look at him. He was too afraid to, not wanting to see what he had. Robert jabbed the hard rod into America's side, a smirk spreading onto his face as he flipped the switch. Electricity surged from the rod into America, causing a scream to escape from him. By the time Robert had switched off the rod, America couldn't stop shaking. Just when America thought that the electricity wasn't coming back, Robert switched on the switch again, and electricity left the rod again.

England couldn't stand to hear America's scream, he couldn't. Just knowing that Robert was over there causing the scream, made England tremble from anger. He wanted so badly to kill him, to kill Robert and help America, to swoon him in kisses and tell him that he loved him. But he couldn't. He couldn't do anything.

"Oh, come on!" Robert said, "I haven't even started to have fun yet!" He quickly turned around, grabbing the first thing he saw and looked down at the trembling American. "Hm, Looks like I have a knife," he mumbled, "why don't I do this?" he jabbed the knife into America's back, letting go of it and leaving it in there. "I need something funnier." he said, ignoring the scream that had left the American's mouth. Robert was turned towards the table, so he couldn't see America inching towards the crow bar a few inches away from him. "This looks fun!" Robert said finally, turning to to see something surprising. There, America was shakily on his feet, crowbar in his hand, panting heavily.

"I'll let you hurt me," he said, "But not when he's here. N-not when the one I love... is here. I won't let you as long as I'm a-alive."

"But-" Robert didn't get a chance to say his sentence, because America thrusted the crowbar at him with all the strength he had left. Robert landed on te ground, blood seeping out of his head.

"S-shut up." Then America fell over, landing on the ground.


End file.
